Crimson embarrassment crept across my face, and my words came out quick. "Oh, right, of course, what's going on?"
"Your office asked about gaining access to the crime scene."
"Oh, right. Yes, our boss would like us to take a look around."
Ethan's voice was purely professional. "I can meet you at the scene and take you and your partners through what we know. The DEA has been over the scene several times as well. If you'd like for them to join us, I can make those arrangements."
"I don't think we need the DEA there." I didn't know if Logan would want them there or not, but I didn't want Ethan to feel like he had to set up appointments for us. Besides, the agents we had met the previous night didn't instill me with a lot of confidence in anything they might do or say. "If you could walk us through the scene, though, we'd appreciate that."
"I'd be happy to." His sounded less ridged this time. "Meet you over there in, say, an hour?"
There was no way I was going anywhere without a shower, especially if it wasn't urgent. "Can we make it an hour and a half?"
"I'll be there."
"And, um..." If anything, my face grew redder, but he sounded distant, so I had to ask. "We mentioned getting together tonight?"
Ethan was silent for a few beats and my heart quivered, as though ready to sink. "It didn't sound like you really wanted me to stop by."
"I do." That sounded hurried, so I tried again. "Last night, work would have gotten in the way, but if you're interested, you could stop by."
"Work may keep me pretty late tonight. We should receive some test results today."
Damn. That didn't sound promising. "Sure, I understand."
"I could text you when I'm free, and if you're up..."
"Yeah." I felt a little better. "That sounds good."
Once we hung up, I called Logan and, after filling him in, I ran upstairs, sandwich in hand, and ate as I got ready. After my shower, I caught myself taking too much time trying to pick an outfit since we were meeting Ethan. As soon as the realization struck, I put on normal work clothes. Last fall that would have consisted of jeans and a T-shirt. Seeing Kyrian move up so quickly, take charge, and make big changes in our branch of the agency, made me take a closer look at my own career trajectory. So far, I wasn't aimed in any particular direction, but slacks and a button up shirt began to make regular appearances in my wardrobe.
On the way to the crime scene, I read out parts of the file from our tablet. The details along with the crime scene photos painted a gruesome picture.
I pressed my hand to my stomach when I looked at the victim. "He beat her to death."
Logan glanced over at the picture. "No human was meant to carry the fury of a minotaur."
"Did I-" I stopped, not knowing where I really wanted to go with the question.
Logan filled the dead air. "You didn't hurt anyone."
"I don't remember much, but if you and Rider weren't there, I'm pretty sure I would have attacked someone. I was so... angry."
"Did the feeling start as soon as you touched the idol?"
"Before actually. Zander had me ticked off before the energy jumped into me." I explained what it felt like after the alien energy settled into place and the rage began to build. "Do you think Ed felt the same way I did?"
"Hard to say for sure, but I don't think so. It jumped straight into you, which may have amplified the intensity. The necklace probably affected him, but I don't think anything entered him like it did you. Otherwise, it would have affected someone else at the station."
"It certainly felt intense."
"When you woke up, could you tell the energy was gone?"
"Gone?" The silence drew out again as I tried to figure out how to answer the question. The anger was gone. Everything seemed normal, except the small nagging feeling that I wasn't alone in my own skin.
"Put a rain check on that." Logan was eying the newly installed GPS device in the truck.
In the past, we made do with maps, and then Smartphones began to trickle in a few months ago. Once Kyrian took over, new tech rolled in, which led to a GPS system in almost every work vehicle.
It looked like we were a few blocks away, but I wanted to let the subject drop. "We have a civilian on the scene with us, what should we focus on?"
"Delving into the past should be avoided if possible. The police have the murder covered, so there's no reason to get a replay of events as they happened. We're looking for any signs of where the necklace came from, how long they had it and are there any connection to the kids that died the other day."
"Sounds good." Looking at the pictures of the crime had been bad enough. There was no way I wanted to see the scene played out, especially with Ethan watching over us.
Ethan was waiting in front of the building. "Agent Seale, Agent Heidrich."
Logan shook the offered hand. "I think we can lose the formality. First names are good for us."
My partner knew me so well. With Ethan wavering about tonight, there was no way I would have mentioned the whole name business, but really, who wants to be called agent all the time?
Ethan appeared to be okay with the suggestion.
"We're going up to the second floor, to the back facing apartment on the left." Ethan led the way into the apartment and up the stairs. "The neighbors below called the disturbance in first. They could hear the argument through the floors. Before the police were on scene, the neighbors from across the hall called it in as well."
"Have the neighbors made any complaints about them before?" Logan asked.
"They’ve lived here about two years and no one contacted us about them before this incident. It's not the worst neighborhood around, but not the best either. People tend to mind their own business, and no one in the building seems to know anyone else. At least not when we ask.
"We had to kick the door in, but a new door jamb was put in this morning to keep people out." Ethan took down crime scene tape that made a flimsy, but effective barrier to the apartment and opened the door.
I handed Logan a pair of disposable gloves and put on my own. While pulling them on, I closed my eyes and mentally moved to the edge of my mind. There was a feeling of something watching beyond that edge that made me uneasy, and I hesitated, unsure of what would happen when I crossed the chasm into the Path.
If I wasn't willing to access the Path, what was I even doing here? Forging forward, there was an unsettled feeling before the Path snapped into place. It dissipated before I could put a name to the sensation. Making sure I had a firm hold on my power, I stepped into the apartment.
"The incident occurred in the front room," Ethan said.
It was like stepping into another world. I've seen bursts of anger that sank hooks into the Path and remained in place, but this was a blight on the Path. Angry reds twisted around thick black waves, and although the Path flowed, the storm of emotion crashed back into itself and remained in place.
"It's a mess, I know," Ethan said, coming up beside me and looking around the room, "but I can tell you what we know and which areas are most affected."
Ethan must have mistaken my reading as being overwhelmed, which wasn't far from the truth, but mostly, I didn't want to step any further into the room. I was already being buffeted with the residue that poisoned the apartment. My own rage, or at least the rage that had filled me, hadn't been gone for long. What would happen to me if I stepped into this hell?
"Well, partner, any area in particular you want to start?" Logan asked.
Tearing my eyes away from frenzied mess was difficult since it dominated the room. When I found other flows of color, I regretted looking away.
I pointed to an area by the window before I let the meaning of the Path truly soak in. "Over there. I'm guessing that's where the girlfrien-, uh, the victim was found." It wasn't really a guess. The confusion of color left behind was concentrated in one small spot.
"Yes," Ethan said, "the body was discovered here, and our perpetrator was found in this room as w
ell.”
"Why don't you talk me through what happened, Ethan," Logan said.
With Ethan focused on Logan, I could concentrate more on the apartment.
Looking from the stormy mass left behind by the boyfriend and back to the condensed spot of fear, sadness, and spark of anger left by the woman, I felt overwhelmed. The intense fear and disorientation the woman felt was somehow more powerful than the rest of the room, where the fury might be permanently woven into the fabric of the Path.
It was too much. After taking one last calculating look, trying to take in the whole room without feeling, I pushed the Path away. I welcomed the muted dullness of color that came with the normal world.
Ethan and Logan were moving to the rest of the apartment. I stood not far from the door, which probably didn't look good from an outsider’s point of view. In fact, it must have looked like I did nothing. Would Ethan think I was so affected that I couldn't go through the crime scene?
With great reservation, I went further into the room. Even without the Path, I could feel the remains of the fight, so I concentrated hard on the physical. Except where the fight had disturbed things, the room was tidy. Looking around, I found the small kitchen. It was dim and depressing, with no natural light, but it was clean, and someone had tried to make the room better with sunny canisters and curtains around a fake vinyl decal window over the sink.
Exploring further, I found Ethan and Logan in what might have once been a second bedroom, which had been turned into an office of sorts. There was a cheap desk and chair with a computer monitor, a small bookcase, and the rest of the seating was beanbag chairs and floor cushions. The room was fairly neat, but the smell of cigarette smoke and pot clung to everything.
While Ethan listed the drugs and drug paraphernalia confiscated, I took a closer look at the bookshelf. The titles made me roll my eyes. There were a few books on drugs, but other titles were things like, The Healing Power of Crystals, Magik in Nature, and an eclectic mix of books on secret societies, prophesies, and the end of the world. The book on mythological creatures peaked my interest, but when I flipped through the pages, I didn't discover anything out of the ordinary. There were a few photos on the bookshelf and on the desk, so I shifted my focus to them. Most of the pictures were of the couple, but a few contained what could have been friends or family.
Without looking up, I asked, "Do we know who's in the pictures? Could one of them be the person that Ed mentioned, Terry?"
"We're checking on a few. Ed hasn't been as talkative since speaking to a lawyer, so our trek to getting answers is longer. So far, no one by that name."
Concentrating on the smaller details in the photos, I discovered that Ed appeared to be wearing a chain around his neck. It might not have been the source of all this trouble, but it was the only photograph that showed him wearing any jewelry. The only other jewelry in the picture was a ring that his girlfriend was wearing.
"Were they engaged?" I asked.
"She was wearing a ring, but Ed stated they weren't getting married. No one else knows anything about an engagement either," Ethan said.
Logan looked over my shoulder at the photo. "I think I've seen all I need to. Cassie?"
"I want to take a few pictures in here, but otherwise, I'm done." I snapped a few photos of the books and the pictures and followed Ethan and Logan out of the apartment.
Once outside in the cool spring day, it felt like I could breathe easier. "Thank you for showing us around. I think the only thing left for us is a visit to the morgue to see the victim."
Logan didn't miss a beat. It wasn't a part or our plan, but you'd never know that from his reaction.
Ethan looked tense again. "Your office didn't mention that part. I can call the hospital to let them know you're on the way." He looked like he wanted to say more.
"Yeah," Logan said, "we'll be out of your way after that. At least until Terry surfaces. We'd appreciate a heads up if he does."
"You're following the drugs, like the DEA." Ethan's strained look dropped away. "We've given the DEA some office space while they're working here."
"I'm surprised they don't have a substation nearby," I said.
"I think we've been too small of a town until the past few years," Ethan said, "I'm sure it's crossing their minds, though. I have to get back to the station, but I'll make a call to the morgue on my way."
With a polite nod, Ethan left. Wistfully, I had hoped for a better goodbye, but we were on the job and Logan and I needed to get to the morgue.
Chapter 12
The room looked and felt the same, stark white and shiny metal with a clean smell. The staff was different this time, though.
"Howdy," Logan said as he strode into the room, "thank you for the help."
The man didn't get up from a desk in the corner of the room. "It's no trouble."
Logan smiled, which appeared to make the room brighter. "That's good of you. Could we ask you to wrangle up what this woman had on when she came in?"
"Sure thing." The man appeared unconcerned and uninterested in our presence, but he had caught Logan's smile. After tapping a few buttons on his computer, he left the room.
The victim was on a table in the chilled room. The small, tight ball of emotion from the apartment was fresh in my mind, so I only took a cursory look at the body, which was more than enough to roll my stomach. Moving away, I let Logan have more room while I waited at the desk.
Logan, letting melancholy slip into his features, inspected the victim more closely. When the elf moved from happy to this, the room around him appeared to dim. There were times when I was with my partner that I could almost believe there was real elven magic.
I wasn't sure what Logan was looking for as he examined the woman, but I didn't want to ask either. I was too afraid he'd show me, and I didn't want to spend more time here than necessary.
Still smiling, the helpful man returned and sat a box on his desk. "The clothes are in the large bags."
Watching Logan, he covered the woman back up but stayed next to her.
"She didn't have much on her. Here, these are the two smaller bags," the man said.
I held out my hand but kept an eye on my partner. It was almost as if he flipped a switch. The sadness washed away and he looked normal again.
The man dropped a plastic bag in my hand, and I turned my attention back to the items the woman had.
A small shock of energy flexed and jumped straight into me. My eyes widened as I looked down into two plastic bags in my hand. The smallest of them held the same ring that the woman had been wearing in the picture. My hand jerked back in delayed reaction and the evidence clattered to the desk.
"Shit. Sorry." I didn't immediately recognize that I had spoken out loud.
"It's no problem," the man said picking up the dropped items.
The sorry had been a more general sorry, one to me and to my partner for my stupidity. The buzz like a flow of electricity raced through me.
"You've been a great help," Logan said, keeping his voice jovial. "Will pictures of these materials and a copy of the autopsy report be added to the police file today?"
Assuming the energy would try to settle in the same way as the last, I put up all the barriers I could. The trouble was that living beings are more fluid than our physical bodies would leave us to assume. Plus, this bolted through me much faster than the last.
"It might be tomorrow for the preliminary autopsy, but some of the photos may be available later today.
"Thanks again," Logan said.
With my concentration locked inside myself, I barely noticed the glances in our direction when Logan led me out of the hospital with haste.
The force spread up from my core and wrapped itself around me, much like the previous energy had, but there was a difference in the feel.
"How are you holding up?" Logan asked once we were outside.
"I—" The shift of energy was throwing me off. "I think it's okay."
"There's nothing there?"
Logan asked.
"It's there, but... I don't feel angry or ready to lash out. I'm working hard to keep it away, though."
Logan hesitated at the truck. "It's not the same as the last?"
"Yes and no," I said, "I'm not sure what it is. Stick me in the back?"
"No, up front."
My concentration was too fierce to put up an argument.
Logan drove as fast as he dared. He was practically vibrating with his need to go faster. He made a call, but I didn't pay attention to who he contacted. Every defense I set up was beginning to fall apart. The energy slipped over, around, and through every obstacle I put in its way. It was like trying to hold the wind.
"I feel—" once again, I was struggling to put the feeling into words. "I feel anxious sitting still."
"Anxious, not angry," Logan said.
My leg bounced and my hands felt jittery. "I need to move around." It was as if someone poured a hundred cups of coffee into me, all at once.
"We're almost to your house."
As soon as the truck stopped, I jumped out and paced. Logan ran around the truck and ushered me into the house where Jonathan met us at the door with a tranq gun in hand. He looked ready to dart me but showed restraint.
"I'm not sure what this is." I began to wear a path into the floor by quickly pacing the room.
"What's happening?" Jonathan asked.
Words flung themselves out of my mouth faster than I could account for. Jonathan got a quick rundown of the jewelry circulating, with shards of essence. The need to be active, and to do more than pace, was strong. I made my way into the kitchen and scrubbed down counters and appliances as I talked.
"Maybe we should call the doctor?" Jonathan asked when I stopped to draw breath.
"I feel great. Fantastic really. Oh, maybe we could go out for a run. Wait, you two don't run. I should call Rider over to go for a run with me." I grabbed the phone only to have it yanked from my hands.
"I'll call Rider. Jonathan, keep an eye on her." Logan stalked out of the room.
"Do you run?" I asked.
"No," Jonathan said.
Broken Paths (AIR Book 2) Page 10
